Safe In My Arms
by o0kaymawn0o
Summary: Alternate Universe, where Sam doesn't know anything about hunting, as Dean doesn't want him to grow up the way he has. Sam loses his father, and finds out what happened. He wants to help, but Dean refuses. Dean cares about Sam more than anyone in the world, and he'll kill anyone who tries to hurt him. Full summary inside - DS! Slash!
1. A Good Wife

_Safe In My Arms_

o0kaymawn0o

* * *

**Summary:**

**Alternate Universe, where Sam doesn't know anything about hunting, as Dean doesn't want him to grow up the way he has. Sam loses his father, and finds out what happened. He wants to help, but Dean refuses. Dean cares about Sam more than anyone in the world, and he'll kill anyone who tries to hurt him. While he battles to keep Sam safe, he must battle the feelings he has for his little brother. He was going to hell, in more ways than one.**

* * *

_Notes:_

_Kind of on a roll with this whole paring, so I had to start this one, too! Another Dean/Sam, because I'm in love with them. :D_

* * *

_**A Good Wife:**_

Dean had had a rough night. John tracked this shape shifter to Louisiana, after an eye-witness had mentioned that the man who had been put at the scene of the crime had, in fact, died several weeks ago. She watched him die and checked his pulse afterwards to make sure. It wasn't something that the woman ever wanted to relive in her life. Dean and John were sceptical at first. In their line of work, it would be stupid not to be. They had asked a few more questions, just to make sure that she wasn't the one that wasted the guy, and that's how she knew so much about his death. She answered no, of course she didn't, and Dean believed her. John hadn't been so sure at the time, but after the lady cooperated with them – leading the killer to them by using herself as bait, he soon turned around.

The shape shifter had chosen to take the form of a beautiful blonde girl with huge knockers. Dean couldn't help admiring the vessel. John had told him to do his job, and that his job wasn't to sleep with the supernatural. At the time, Dean made a remark that if they all looked like her, why wasn't that his job?

After they got the jump on it, and killed it, John smacked his son on the back of the head. Dean felt that he sort of deserved it for feeling attracted to a creature of some kind. For all he knew, that thing could have originally been a dude, and wouldn't that just be fucking awkward?

Right now, Dean was sleeping.

"Hey, Dean," Sam, his younger brother whispered as he opened the door. He was wearing pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt that was just a little bit too big for him. "Dean, you awake?" the boy continued, ambling in to the room at a slow pace. He was obviously tired, too. But he had been studying for a test that he had to take later today. It was a lot different from the reason his brother was dead to the world at this moment.

Dean didn't flinch, or give any sign that he was awake, so Sam said his name a little louder. Sometimes it was almost impossible to wake his brother up. The guy could sleep through a thunderstorm if he wanted to. Sam placed his knee on the bed and reached for Dean's bare arm. He shoved him gently, expecting the motion to make his brother conscious.

Something must have worked, as Dean mumbled something and rolled over, taking half the covers with him and leaving his back exposed. He was at least wearing sweatpants, so Sam wasn't scarred for life by the action.

"Lazy asshole," Sam muttered over his shoulder, sighing afterwards.

Dean heard it, however. "Watch your mouth, Sammy," he warned sleepily, not really caring. Sam snapped his head in Dean's direction and rolled his eyes. "Don't roll those puppy dog eyes at me, either. You're supposed to respect your elders." He was obviously just messing with the kid now.

"Did you just call yourself old?" Sam asked, hoping it would irritate the man.

It didn't. Dean yawned and stretched out, rising up to a sitting position. He rubbed one eye lazily, trying to sober up from the predetermined lasting effects of sleep. "Maybe. What of it? Was there something you wanted, Sam?" Dean liked talking to his brother and he was fine with him coming in to his room, but he was exhausted from last night's events. He prepared himself for any questions Sam might have about where John and Dean were in the car, on their way to Louisiana, so he could tackle whatever his younger brother threw at him. Dean just couldn't muster up the ability to focus right now or listen to what Sam was saying properly.

"How was the car convention?" Sam finally asked.

_Oh, that's right, I said car convention. Well, here goes nothing. _

"Fantastic. Saw some nice looking sports cars, a huge-ass mustang, this really cool Bugatti. You know, one of those ones where you look at it and imagine yourself cruising along the highway?" Dean could tell from Sam's smile that he was buying this shit, and that he really knew what he was talking about.

"Sounds good. Did Dad enjoy it?"

"Ha. Dad's more the type to bore everyone with the cars history and shit. Knew more about some of them than the management of the convention!" Sam laughed and nodded his head. That's exactly the type of thing their father would do. Man had more brain than he did brawn, and John knew it better than anybody. "Anything else you wanted to ask me, Sammy?"

"No, uh. I'll see you downstairs." With that, Sam left the room. Dean stared at the door after he left, wondering what that little hesitation was about. He was certain that Sam believed his story. And as much as he hated lying to his brother, it was all he could do to protect him – keep him from this lifestyle that someone of his nature truly wouldn't survive in.

_He's innocent. And I'll keep it that way for as long as I live. _

Deciding that it was probably time he dragged his ass out of bed, Dean exited the room to go take a shower. It might wake him up a bit.

* * *

Showered and fully-clothed, Dean entered the kitchen to Sam chowing down on some egg and toast. "Hey, princess. Save some for the king, now, huh?" Dean teased, snatching some fried toast off of Sam's plate. The brown haired teen clicked his tongue and frowned.

"Hey, dickless, why not make your own food?" Dean just grinned as he bit into a slice of toast, making weird faces as he did what he thought was making it seem like he was enjoying the food more.

"Now why would I do that when I have you to do it for me?" He inquired honestly. Sam rolled his eyes again and continued to eat his breakfast, briefly scanning over some revision material. Dean was happy that his brother was working towards something – a normal life. He'll meet a nice girl and have some kids, and he'll be somebody. Maybe a kickass lawyer or a doctor, or something equally impressive. Dean wanted his brother to succeed more than anything. However, he also never wanted him to be far enough away that he can't be there to protect him. The situation was kind of like a two-sided coin.

Sam swallows some egg before replying. "Whatever. I'm at the top of my class at the moment. I have this one final test for AP Chemistry this afternoon. Last time, Nathan got the top score, but I've been working my ass off to win this time." This didn't come as a surprise to Dean. His brother was such a bookworm it was almost embarrassing.

"Well, let's face the facts here, Sammy. You inherited more from our mom. What, with the pretty face and puppy dog eyes – the brains. You'll make some rich guy very happy someday," he replied, a cocky smirk on his face as he winked expectantly.

"Oh, haha. You're hilarious, Dean."

"I do try for you, honey."

"Would you shut up?" Sam almost pleaded, trying to ignore this man that was his brother and focus on his studying instead.

Dean barked a laugh. "Sorry, Sammy, I just can't control myself around you." He was just being an ass now because it was fun to mess around with the younger Winchester. He got flustered so easily, it was hard not to take the piss.

"Right, well I have to get to school, so I'll see you later, asshole." Sam closes the back and forth with that statement and grabs his bag. He throws it over his shoulder and takes his keys off the holder as he leaves for his car.

_What would I do for fun around here without Sammy?_

Sometimes it just couldn't be helped. Dean loved winding his brother up by saying things related to him marrying a man and being a housewife. Sam took care of John and Dean all the time. If either of them were sick, he would make them soup and check their temperature, even make sure they were comfortable. So it wasn't crazy for Dean to make jokes about the guy being a great wife.

That was one of the things that Dean loved about his brother the most. He was right there when you needed him, with food or some poor attempt to make you smile by telling a joke, which he could never remember, and that's why it was funny. Dean would look after Sam if he were in the same situation, obviously, he just wasn't as great at the whole cooking stuff and all that jazz.

John and Dean would be hopeless without their Sammy.

"Dean, we've got another one," John announced as he walked into the kitchen, already looking prepared for a road trip.

"Yeah? What is it?" Dean gestured to his father's journal. John set it down on the table and pointed to a section with the headline, _"Couple Found Dead In House – No Signs of a Break In. People Are Calling It The Phantom Murder." _After his eyes were done scanning the page, Dean looked at his father with an unreadable expression.

John scowled. "Seems like our kind of thing, doesn't it? Mary called me and said mysterious deaths have been happening in Kansas. I searched it on the internet and found this article immediately. Go check we have everything, Dean. We leave in five."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

The car was up and running at full power, rocketing down the open roads, on its way to Kansas. Dean loved the purr of the engine. He couldn't help being grateful that John let him drive most, if not all of the time, as the older Winchester liked to go over his journal and scour for connections leading up to the mysterious deaths.

Dean was in his element; one hand on the steering wheel, one resting against the open window, letting the even air into the car. The first time he drove the Impala, he was sixteen. John had illegally taught him a few years before, with a car that they won at a competition. It was just a rusty old thing, but it was the first car Dean drove, and he respected it. The rust bucket didn't even begin to compare to the black beauty that he cherished now, however it served its purpose. Dean was quite the natural when it came to driving, and it wasn't long before he was a true master. John was proud when his thirteen year old son drove his first car down the open highway and instigated a beautiful parallel park. Luckily for them, the roads were empty at the time, so no one reported an underage driver shooting down the asphalt.

He remembered this one time when they were hunting a demon that had possessed this scrappy looking man. They were chasing it down the street, when it dived through a car window and hot-wired the vehicle in breakneck speed. Dean had honestly been impressed, and made a comment that he guessed you learn a couple of neat tricks when you've lived for that long. John had scolded him briefly and told him to lead by the example set and follow the demon. Without question, Dean broke into the nearest car and hotwired it, perhaps not as quickly as the thing they were chasing, but fast enough. In seconds flat, he was pulling out of the parking space and burning rubber to catch that sorry bastard.

Several turns later, Dean was starting to catch up to the demon. He had cruised these streets enough time in his life to be able to get the upper-hand in a car chase, and that thing was starting to realise its mistake. The demon abruptly stopped at a red light and dived out of the car, sprinting for the nearest house. Dean had called it a son of a bitch and announced that it wasn't getting away that easily, and made a quick decision to floor it, almost swerving out of control. If his father hadn't been such a strict teacher when passing on his skills of driving, Dean never would have been able to perform that illegal U-turn and collide with the demon, forcing it up against a tree. He heard the cracking of the man's bones the demon had overtaken – he would have been furious with himself, had he not seen the demon lay waste to the man's life before the possession.

Nevertheless, that was definitely in Dean's top-ten car chases of all time. It was odd how many he's experienced in his lifetime already. Then again, it kind of came with his job description. Demons, especially, didn't like to get caught, just like avenging spirits. And, as far as speed went, cars were just a faster getaway than running. They might be stronger than the average, strength-obsessed man, but the vessels legs could only run so fast. That was the reality for them.

"Take the next right, Dean," John instructed, and Dean complied, ending up on a street with very suburban looking houses. Dean never really enjoyed spending time in homes like these ones. It was too real for him; too traditional, like a close-nit-eat-dinner-and-pray-every-day sort of family lived there. He couldn't imagine that ever being the Winchester's.

John said to pull in to number thirty-seven, and Dean did so before taking the key out of the ignition and stepping out of the car. John led the way to the door and knocked twice, taking a step back for breathing space. Running a hand through his dirt-blonde hair, Dean cleared his throat and put on a charming smile when Mary opened the door. She was an older gal, around his father's age, although her age wasn't as apparent on her face. She's definitely done well for herself, Dean will say that.

"John, it's so good to see you. I wasn't sure when you were going to turn up, but I can go get you boys some sandwiches?" Mary opened the door wider and invited the Winchester's into her home, which Dean was quick to lie about and compliment. "Oh, thank you! It was my mother's home before she passed. I've taken care of it and made sure everything is how it always was." Dean felt bad for the lady when her eyes clearly showed her sadness. He wanted to nudge John into comforting her, but he knew his father wouldn't go for it. His late mother was called Mary, so that would just make things complicated.

John took a seat at the table in the kitchen and put on a concerned face. "So, Mary, you said that mysterious deaths have been occurring? What exactly is it that makes it so to you? I know you also mentioned that the News Papers described it as a phantom murder, but it would really help If you could shed some light on the details," the older Winchester rubbed his beard when he was done and accepted the drink offered to him by the slightly startled woman.

She handed a drink to Dean, too, before she started. "Yes, it was all over the news. People are starting to become paranoid, upgrading their security to the best money can buy. That isn't going to help them, though. This killer, whatever it may be, leaves no evidence of a break in whatsoever. It's as if they go through the walls or something," Mary paused to take a breather and clench her fist around the necklace her mother left for her in the will. "It's evil. I can feel it. It wants something, but I have no idea. I'm just… I'm too scared to leave my house right now because the last death was only two doors down from where I live, you know?" Dean and John understood completely. If they were being honest, they were surprised she even opened the door to them if this were the case.

"Did all the deaths happen on this street?" Dean asked tentatively. The woman nodded her head, almost on the brink of tears. John turned his attention to Dean and cocked his head in Mary's direction. He understood what he had to do, and it honestly didn't feel like a request. Everyone needed consoling once in a while. So, Dean got up from his seat and pulled Mary into a hug. She was quick to hold on tight, letting every tear drop onto his jacket. "Don't you worry, Mary, okay? Me and my dad are gonna find whatever this is and keep everyone safe."

"Th-thank you," she whispered so quietly that he nearly missed it.

Mary gave them the locations of all the deaths and they left immediately to start looking for tracks. At the first house, it was exactly as Mary described. It looked like someone or something just came through the walls. The security this man had was off the charts. John explained to Dean that it was one of the most advanced pieces of technology designed for security in the world today. Dean thought the guy was absolutely loaded. He wouldn't have minded having that sort of money, to be able to afford that sort of thing. That would be a dream come true in his book.

They moved on to the second victim, and it was pretty much the same thing. There was blood all over the floor and the walls. Except this time, it looked like the victim tried to put up a fight, reach for the phone and call the police. This meant that they had to at least be able to see whatever it was that had been attacking them at the time. After tracing the start of the attack to the bedroom, John and Dean found themselves at the most recent victim's house. It was the same again, blood enveloping the room. However, this time, Dean noticed something.

"Hey, Dad, have you noticed how each of the victims attacks started off in their bedrooms, and how if you look closely at the sheets, it's the same image made from their blood every time?" John frowned and observed what his son was talking about. He thought back to the other houses, and what the state of the sheets looked like. Now that he thought about it, Dean was right. Each time, an image with similar features to a broken heart would be left on the sheets of the bed. "And, each victim was a well off man. I think we might just be dealing with a vengeful lady spirit out to get some guys that used her with money." Dean's smirk said it all. He knew he was right.

John grinned. "I think you might be right, Dean. But, there's something that connects these murders to Mary. What that is, I'm not sure of. I think we need to question her a little more to get the full story on this. Wipe your prints so we don't get any cops coming after us, then we'll head over. Understand?" Dean tips his head and takes out a cloth from his pocket, wiping down everything he touched in the house. He was used to doing this now, so it didn't take him long before they were both back in the Impala, on their way to Mary's.

* * *

The chemistry test had long since been over for Sam. Now he was just sitting there waiting for everyone else to catch up. There was something that he couldn't seem to get off his mind, though. Earlier when he went to wake up his older brother, he noticed something on his skin that he had never seen before. It was a deep, marking of the skin. If he were to label it something, he would say it were a scratch – a very deep, jagged scratch out of a werewolf movie. It looked painful, but Dean didn't draw any attention towards it whatsoever. Sam just didn't understand how he had never noticed it before. There was no way Dean could have acquired a wound that deep from a car convention. He's seen Dean get shot down by some feisty women for being an over-confident asshole before, but nails can only piece the skins so much.

To Sam, the wound looked fresh as well. Dean must have cleaned it off in the shower when he got home. Could a dog have caused something like that? Or maybe Dean was attacked by a bobcat. His brother never was a fan of the feline. Animals, in general, weren't exactly his thing. He complained that all they do is eat and shit and make mess that we, as humans, are responsible for cleaning up. Sam found it funny at the time, but truthfully he did want a cat or a dog. Something that could keep him company when Dean and his father were on road trips to all such events.

Sam wondered what it would be like to go on a road trip with the other Winchester's. He couldn't, though. He was too busy with school and working hard to be the best that he could be. Dean always told him to focus on his studies, anyway – to do what he does, and Dean and John will do what they do. Still, he couldn't help feeling a little sad Dean wouldn't even consider the idea of taking Sam with them every once in a while. It should be up to their father, but whenever Sam mentions it to John, he tells him to ask his brother. Dean never says yes. It's a resounding no all the time.

There wasn't much else for Sam to do at home other than study. Sure, he was allowed to have friends over and girls, but there were no sources of entertainment for them to play with, apart from each other. Sam blushed a little at that thought. There was this one girl that he was kind of lusting after. He didn't possess the same charm that his older brother did, so he wasn't sure how to talk to the girl. She was really pretty and nice to him, but he wasn't sure if that meant she was attracted to him.

Oh, well. Sam will just have to suck it up and ask for his brother's help on this one. Sam gave the classroom a once over and noticed that everyone was nearing completion now. They should be, as it was almost end of class. Sam often wondered why so many of his classmates took so much time to answer one question. If they don't know the answer, they should just move on to the next one, and go back to the ones they struggled with at the end of the test, so there isn't too much pressure on them.

"Okay, students, pens down, the test is now over – please place your papers in the box at the front." Everyone did as they were told, some chattering amongst themselves about how well they think they did. Sam could care less about discussing the test now that it was over. He just wanted to grab a bite to each and head to his group of friends.

"Hey, Sam," Jessica, the girl Sam was kind of pining after said as she walked up to him. Sam cleared his throat and attempted a charming smile, asking her what was up. "Nothing, nothing. You looked like you were zoning out during the test, and I just wanted to know if everything is okay with you?" She smiled reassuringly up at him and he smiled sincerely back.

"Yeah, sure. Everything is fine. I was just thinking about the test and the grade I'm hoping for!" Sam lied easily, using the eyes he was born with to his advantage. Jessica bought what he was saying and said she would see him around before leaving the classroom. San couldn't help the stupid grin on his face if he tried.

* * *

After questioning Mary some more, Dean and John found out that Mary had a younger sister she wasn't telling them about. They asked where she was and found out that Susan Chowdery was murdered three months ago, around the time the killings started happening. John was careful when he relayed the information that what they were dealing with was the vengeful spirit of her younger sister, and Mary broke down crying immediately. Dean consoled her once more, explaining that they were going to put her spirit to rest – all they needed was the location of her remains and for Mary to distract her long enough for them to burn the corpse.

Mary was willing to cooperate. Now, they found themselves at the local graveyard, preparing for the battle against the vengeful spirit. "Susan? Are you here? It's your sister, Mary… I-I miss you. Please? Come out and see me?" Mary's sincere words must have worked on the spirit, as she came out of hiding almost immediately, looking at Mary through blood-mattered hair.

The older sister clasped her hands together and started tearing up. Dean made the decision to take care of this quickly, so that Mary wouldn't have to suffer any more pain. His shotgun was already loaded with rock salt, just in case the spirit turned on them when they made a move for her grave. Dean focused his eyes to where Susan was currently standing, pinpointing the location of her grave. He signalled for Mary to try and draw Susan away from where she was.

John watched his son from behind a tree, thoroughly surprised at how good Dean has gotten over the years. Not only did he make the connection between the murders, but he's been pulling the strings practically since they searched the houses. While John didn't like that he wasn't the one to figure it out first, he was certainly proud of the man he raised. John knew that when his time came, Dean could handle the family business and protect Sammy with no problems at all. That, he was confident about.

Mary managed to lure Susan away from the grave. They were now hugging in the middle of the graveyard. Dean would think it were a sweet moment if he wasn't currently digging his way down to a rotting corpse right now. It wasn't long before Dean reached the casket. He pried it open quickly and called for his dad to grab the salt and the fuel.

The spirit was starting to feel something was up, and it looked around, spotting the mud from her burial ground piled into several hills of earth. She growled throatily, preparing to charge over there and kill the person responsible. She couldn't, however, as her sister wrapped her arms around and told her that she had to move on. She had her revenge now; she can truly be at peace. Mary also threw in how much it was breaking her heart to see her innocent little sister ready to murder someone that was trying to help her at the drop of a hat. Susan seemed to understand. She smiled at her older sister, just as Dean lit the match and dropped it onto the fuel-covered remains of her body. Mary sobbed when she saw her little sister's spirit starting to disappear. But they were happy tears this time. Her sister would be at peace, and that was all that mattered to her.

"I-I really can't thank you two enough…" She half yells from her spot in the graveyard.

John smirks. "No need to thank us, Mary."

"Yeah. Seeing you happy is what makes this job worth it."

* * *

It's late when the two Winchester's finally return home. Dean spotted a flashing light in the living room and thought that Sam must have been watching the TV or something. The news was on when they entered the living room, where Sam was passed out on the sofa, legs tucked uncomfortably against the armrest and body halfway across the sofa. Dean smiled at the sight. His eyes found a finished plate of some sort and he quickly went to the kitchen, where he discovered a note on the table in Sammy's handwriting.

It read: _Hey, Dad, Dean, your dinner is in the oven. Sorry I couldn't do much for you guys, I had a paper to revise for. Nevertheless, I hope it's okay. _Dean smiled at the note, calling up the stairs to John that Sam made dinner and it's in the oven. Dean took his dinner from the oven and placed it into the microwave to heat up first. Once it was hot enough, he made his way back to the living room and took the seat next to Sam, relaxing into the sofa after a hard day of hunting.

His taste buds exploded when he took his first bite of the delicious food and he rumbled a laugh. "Damn, Sammy, you sure would make a good wife."

* * *

_Notes:_

_This one is going to be quite angsty... So, yeah, you've been initially warned._


	2. Pride

_Safe In My Arms_

o0kaymawn0o

* * *

**Chapter Summary: **

**Dean's told to watch out for Sammy as John goes on a hunt. The brother's spend some time together at the house. Dean has a soft moment with Sam.**

* * *

_Notes:_

_Kind of on a role with this whole paring, so I had to start this one, too! Another Dean/Sam, because I'm in love with them. :D_

* * *

_**Pride:**_

"Your brother certainly takes after your mother, Dean."

Dean smirks. "Yeah, I was telling him that earlier. The kid must have the mind of a domestic housewife or something. Ha!" While John found the joke funny, he didn't like the thought of his son acting like a wife, or even the possibility of Sam being like he is with anyone others than his family.

"Anyway, Dean, you did very well on this hunt and I'm proud of you, son. But I need you to step down for a while and keep an eye on Sammy." John's tone sounded serious and it was making Dean a little uncomfortable. When he said keep an eye on Sammy, there was so much concern and something Dean couldn't quite figure out.

"Why, Dad? What's the matter? Is Sam in danger?" Dean was panicking. Any thought put into his head that Sam was in trouble scared the shit out of him. His Dad better start explaining himself. Dean completely changed when Sam was involved. It was no different with his father. "Dad. Tell me what's wrong!"

"I don't know for sure, Dean. But I just get the feeling something bad is going to happen soon. I just need you to make sure Sam is okay and nothing odd is happening around him. I only trust you to do this, Dean. Please?" Dean was speechless. What was he supposed to say that? He was going to guarantee Sam was safe regardless of the situation, but he's never seen John so worried before. It was hard for him to watch. John took everything that was thrown at him so easily – he wouldn't even flinch. Dean guessed it made sense that the second his children were involved that he would be more susceptible to fear and nerves.

"Sure, Dad. I'll make sure Sammy's okay. I promise."

John smiled a small smile and nodded his head. He couldn't begin to explain how happy he was to hear that. Recently, he's been having these dreams that would cause him to start awake in a cold sweat. They were about someone or something targeting Sam. Why, he had no idea. All he knew is to prevent this from happening, Sam would have to be under constant surveillance.

He's been training Dean since he was just a boy to protect his brother, and now was essentially Dean's time to prove that all that training was worth it. He was a golden child to John. Most, if not all of the time, he followed orders without question, and always got the job done. Most importantly, though, he had Sam's best interest at heart. Dean wasn't as messed up as John was, and the man was grateful for that. Consciously, his older son hated all the lying he had to do to Sam because he loved his brother, and that was a precious thing to watch.

The dreams he's been having must be some kind of warning that there is something coming and it has to do with Sam. There were other things John saw in his dream that he would have to address quickly – that's why Dean has to stay here and watch his brother while John takes care of this.

John was sure Dean understood his wishes and would not go against them unless asked to. And maybe not even then. For all he knew, it could be someone impersonating his own voice to lure Dean away from Sam. John has taught Dean well enough not to fall for something like that, though, so John was confident his son could handle it.

"I'll be leaving in the afternoon. Make up some story that Sam will believe. I'll call you if anything comes up. Let your phone ring three times, then call me back. That'll mean-"

"That someone isn't just impersonating and it's safe to talk," Dean finished for him, and John couldn't even bring himself to be mad his son interrupted him. If anything, that stunt made him even more confident he put his trust in the right person.

* * *

Dean parks his car outside Sam's school. His brother entered the building approximately three minutes ago. To stop Sam from guessing something was up, Dean gave him spaces between each transition. Sam was sharp when he wanted to be. Sure, Dean could be skilled himself in trailing, but he wasn't going to risk anything when the person he was trailing was Sam.

Now that he was here, his job was to ensure nothing unusual was happening around the school – essentially, around Sammy. This also gave Dean the opportunity to see what Sam's school had to offer. If some douchebag started on Sam, Dean would see it, and later that same day, he'd track the dickhead down and give him a reason to fear Winchester's.

After some observation, Dean spots Sam's head near the window of one of the ground-floor classrooms. All he had to do now was pay close attention to anything happening around Sam. Within the first minute of watching, a cute blonde approached Sam and started talking to him. She was doing the whole hair-playing, laughing at things that probably aren't funny; stuff that Dean's seen many times before.

He couldn't help feeling a sense of pride wash over him. Sammy was a catch just like his big brother! Girls were migrating towards him and it filled Dean with joy. It was just a shame that he couldn't use any of this against the younger man.

Oddly, Dean felt the need to distract Sam from the attention he was getting, but he didn't move to do so. It might just be because he didn't want to see his very own brother getting frisky or something like that. Either way, it's strange that the thought popped into Dean's head. Sam was getting some attention, and Dean should be ecstatic for him, like most brothers are when their kid brother gets some. It's like a ceremony, almost.

Still, the way the blonde girl was standing undeniably close to Sam rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe something about her wasn't right? Maybe she was a demon, or a girl possessed by one, at least? Dean couldn't just dislike a girl from the get-go. There had be some form of reason behind this feeling he had.

Dean noticed, after a while, that Sam could be a boring person in school, from the look of things. He didn't crack any jokes, as no one was laughing at what the guy said most of the time – maybe Sam just didn't possess the charm Dean did? The possibility was there. While Sam happened to be a very likeable person, Dean took the cake at charming anything and everyone.

He's pulled from his thoughts when there's a tapping on his window. He rolls the driver side window down and politely greets the man that clearly had a problem with a stranger parked outside of the school. "What is your business at this school, Sir? One of my students informed me that a creepy looking man was parked outside the school," the man recalls, flicking his eyes over the note in his hand.

Dean couldn't help feeling slightly offended by the word 'creepy', when you could not be as hot as he was and look creepy. It just wasn't a possibility. Bitch must be crazy or something.

"Oh, come on now, are you sure the words weren't, 'Devilishly handsome man sat in his beautiful Impala'?" He decided that saying something like this would maybe loosen this stiff up, as he looked about ready to give him a parking ticket for stopping on school property. Dean offered a charming smile, which seemed to have some sort of affect, as the guy's posture loosened – only a tad, however.

"It was definitely creepy, but what are you doing here?" The man clearly wasn't going to let up and just allow Dean to innocently observe his brother at school, so he would have to come up with some bullshit excuse for being here.

He fished around in his glove compartment and found the fake ID he was looking for. Once he had it, he showed it to the anxious looking teacher, who's eyes widened at the new found information that he was talking to an _undercover agent. _Dean knew a great guy who did fake ID's. They were the best money could buy, and he got them for free, due to the family business.

"I'm so sorry, officer. Please continue. But, may I just ask what you're investigating?"

This didn't make the job any easier for Dean. Still, he was pretty good at lying out of his ass. "An anonymous student came to us and said there was a few people acting suspiciously in the school that could have something to do with the fires that have been going on around here. So, I was sent to check it out, see if I find anyone displaying any signs of fire addiction. If and how we find the suitor, I don't know how long I will be here for observing," Dean finished with an award winning smile and asked if there was anything else the guy would like to ask.

Charlie, the guy, wished him luck with his investigation and went on his way. Usually people introduce themselves before, not after the conversation, but Dean didn't really care. He was completely free to sit here and observe Sammy for as long as he wanted. Dean almost felt obligated to call his card maker and give him an extra thanks for his spectacular work. He couldn't right now, though, as he had a job to do and it required a lot of his attention – especially to the details.

Dean would be so different if he had gone to school. He'd probably be one of the kids that caused lots of mischief in the classroom, and he'd of slept with the entire cheer-squad by the time he finished. Maybe all of them at the same time? Wouldn't that be exciting? Every guy would hate and worship him at the same time. What a life it could be…

* * *

Sam had an interesting day at school today. Jessica gave him a lot more attention than she usually did. She was laughing when he wasn't talking and she was playing with her hair a lot. If Sam remembered correctly from Dean's lectures on women, that meant she must be into him. He didn't understand, though. Jessica was really pretty, he was pushing average.

Sam heard Dean's car pull in to the driveway and grinned. Dean was back early. This hasn't happened in such a long time. They had so many hours to kill before either of them went to bed! Sam can ask him questions about what he should do to move to the next stage with Jessica! Dean was crude, but he did give some great advice at times.

The door unlocks and Dean steps in, kicking the door closed behind him. He stops for a second to register the door shutting before making his way to the living room. Sam was there, throwing his bag on the sofa, a smile on his face from the look of it.

"What's got you so happy all of a sudden?" Dean asks, taking a detour to the kitchen to grab a cold beer from the fridge.

"Nothing. Just, you're not usually home this early. What's the occasion?"

Dean cracks the beer open as he jumps on the sofa, taking a swig before answering. "Sick and tired of job hunting and getting nowhere. So, I'm taking a break from it. Bastards keep hiring the smart guy, and not the charmingly loveable one – that's me, by the way." He wouldn't admit it, but it did genuinely make him happy that Sam was so thrilled he was home.

"Fair, fair. So, what are you doing tonight? Are you going out?" He sounded hopeful that Dean would say no.

"Not tonight. Thought I'd stay in and keep you out of trouble."

"I'm never trouble," Sam replies

Dean grins. "You're right. That's my job, pansy."

Rolling his eyes at the usual teasing, Sam recalls what he wanted to ask. "You know Jessica, right?"

"The girl you want to get in? Yeah, what about her?" He smirks smugly, proud of what he just said. Sam flips him the bird and tells him to shut up. "Just messing with you, Sammy!"

"Yeah, yeah. So she was laughing today when I wasn't even saying anything. And you said that's a sign a girl likes you, right?"

Dean arches a 'brow. "I did, yeah. She could also just be crazy, but to save face we'll say for the time being she's in to you." Scratching the back of his head in thought, Dean took a few more swigs of his beer before setting the bottle on the table. He approaches his brother and pushes him on the sofa with more force than necessary.

Sam's butt hit the cushion and he frowned a little, wondering what Dean was up to. He watches intently, while Dean rummages around in a drawer for something. He turns on his foot, giving Sam a look at the thing he acquired, which happened to be a notepad. Dean throws it on the table, instructing Sam to read through it, with the knowledge that Dean could stand there and lecture him on girls until the days end, but he could just as easily study from this notepad his older brother filled with hints and tips.

"You did all this?" Sam asks incredulously.

While he didn't appreciate Sam's tone, the blonde understood his scepticism. It wasn't like Dean to sit there and fill a whole book about something, or even read. Never was his style.

Dean observes as Sam scans the pages, an apparent respect growing for his brother with each page he read. Some of them were crude and Dean knew this, so he couldn't help laughing when Sam's face contorted with regret at reading something so vulgar that his brother took part in.

"You really are too much, Dean."

"You're welcome."

Several minute passed. They didn't speak to each other, as Sam was immersed in the notepad he was reading. Dean was only twenty-one, but this book started when he was sixteen. He's been sexually active for five years now, and done more than a porn star, from the looks of things. Sam knew that girls weren't that in to guys that didn't have a stable life and lived with their parents still, so Dean must lie a lot to sleep with this many women. He didn't even have to ask Dean what his secret was. The younger Winchester got the picture on his own terms.

There was admiration building for the older man with each page that he turned. Dean definitely had a lot of passion for sex, and this book was the proof of it. The only other things Dean seemed to appreciate more was pie and his Impala.

Half an hour passes quickly, with the two brothers dedicated to their own activities, but Sam had a paper that he had to study for, so he would have to pick up where he left off with the notepad another day. Dean follows Sam with his eyes as the boy made to leave the living room, heading for the stairs.

"Where're you goin'?" he questions, curious. Dean was bored. Just having someone there somehow stems that.

Sam spoke to the stairs in answer. "Got a paper to do," he murmurs, traipsing up the stairs. His ears catch Dean's footsteps trailing behind him, a new beer bottle opening and a loud sip from Dean. "I'm guessing if I say I prefer to study on my own, you'll ignore it?" Sam hid a smile, changing direction at the top of the stairs to get to his room.

Dean follows closely behind him, having ignored Sam's previous question and dived on his brother's bed the second he entered the room, relaxing back into the pillow, acting as if the room were his own.

Sighing to himself, Sam took a seat at his desk, reaching into a draw for his supplies and revision material. He listens to Dean say he had no idea how Sam did this every day, that the older brother would have just left it to the last minute and hoped for a good enough score.

"That's what students who don't want to get in to a good college do, Dean," Sam replies humorously, opening the first page of his advanced math equations book. He felt a presence leaning over his shoulder, and glances up, catching a portion of Dean's chin. Dean rests each hand next to his arms, almost closing the younger in, while staring at the book laid out in front of Sam. Sam could feel Dean's clothed-chest against his back, and while he kind of appreciated the heat radiating off his brother, the close-contact wasn't necessary.

"Mind backing up a little there, Dean?"

Dean pressed further against him just to be a dick. "Certainly, Sammy," he retorts, moving his hand to turn a page. He's yet to figure any of these stupid equations out, and he at least wanted to get the grips of one – not with Sam's help. Dean was fine with what he was doing, as he used to do this with Sam all the time, when Sam wasn't the smart one and needed help for a change.

"Seriously?" Sam blew out a breath. They kept getting caught in his throat, due to how much the blond was pressed against his back. His brother wasn't heavy; it just made him uncomfortable. At least, he thought it did. "The answers six point five, now can you back off?" Sam finally quipped, done with Dean's deeply confused look and chest forced against him.

To Sam's pleasure, Dean backtracks and dives on his bed again, immediately searching under Sam's bed for a porn magazine. He wasn't planning to fap in his brother's room – he just wanted to catch Sam out. Unfortunately, he found nothing but school material, drawing a groan from the older man. "Sam, you are _never _going to get laid if you don't at least have a porno!" Dean barks shamelessly, taking a detour to his room to grab a couple of magazines and threw them at Sam.

"Dude, what the hell?" Sam protests, pushing the oncoming smut-fest away from him. "I have the internet, Dean. I don't need magazines," he admits, which halts Dean's attack.

Dean's face requested more details. "Internet. Porn on the internet. You know? Videos and all that?" The blond nods his head in understanding, shoving Sam out of the way of his computer. It didn't hurt the younger, he was sat on a spin-chair or whatever. Dean opens the internet and immediately hit the history button. His eyes widen briefly in surprise before a massive grin absorbs his face.

"Oh, Sammy, Sammy, Sammy, you naughty boy!" Sam's face flushes a brilliant red, inwardly berating himself for telling Dean he had been watching porn. He would never live this down.

Sam had to think of a subject change quickly before this escalated. "So, where's Dad today? You guys are usually always out doing something…" Sam trails off. It was less of a distraction and of an interrogation. He wants to know where John is, and why he wasn't back yet.

Dean didn't fumble for a second as he lies easily to his little brother. "Dad's on a hunting trip with some of his friends," he informs, closing down the web-browser, suddenly not as interested in Sam's porn history. He'd save that for later when he was the best man at Sam's wedding. He smirked through a tinge of pain. Dean ignores it and scans Sam's face for any reluctance to believe him.

"Dad's never been hunting before."

Flicking Sam on the forehead and enjoying the cute glare he receives, Dean counters the kids statement, "He wanted to try something new. He'll only be out there for a few days, Sammy. You've got nothin' to worry about," Dean reassures, leaving the room to grab another beer and some toast. He should take those words of reassurance to heart himself, as he couldn't help feeling as though their father could use his help. Dean had no idea what the man was up against, so it did linger on his nervoes

Shrugging his shoulders, Dean starts down the stairs, leaving Sam in his room to study.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Dean re-enters Sam's room, with some toast on a plate in his hand. He notices Sam fell asleep at his desk. He set his plate on the bookshelf and gently hauled Sam out of his seat, carrying him bridal style to the bed. He gently lays him flat on his bed, removing his shoes, as not to cause discomfort for the adolescent, and drew the covers over the skinny frame, tucking them in haphazardly.

Dean stood there for a short moment just watching his little brother, who he loved more than anyone in the world, and who he couldn't live without. He allows himself a soft few seconds, where he rubs the pad of his thumb along Sam's forehead slowly, multiple times.

"Sweet dreams, Kiddo."

* * *

_Notes:_

_There are only very subtle hints of Wincest at the moment, as there is a lot more character development to do! ;o Hope you liked it!_


	3. Never Let You Go

_Safe In My Arms _

o0kaymawn0o

* * *

**Chapter Summary:**

**A cinema trip. A bad dream. A warm moment. **

* * *

_Notes:_

_Kind of on a role with this whole paring, so I had to start this one, too! Another Dean/Sam, because I'm in love with them. :D_

* * *

_**Never Let You Go:**_

Dean snaps awake at the sound of his phone ringing. He retrieves it from the side table and answers with a tired hello. It's John. He tells Dean that he's going to be gone for another day, and he doesn't want Sam to know that he hasn't got back from his trip yet. Dean declares that he'll take care of it, ending the call. Curious, he glances at the time and groans. Couldn't John have waited for a reasonable time to call and tell him that? It was barely pushing dawn, for Christ sake!

After he put Sam to bed last night, Dean had a few cold ones in the living room, watching some re-runs on the TV – nothing interesting was on all night. But he had still sat there, unable to tire himself out enough to sleep. If he remembers correctly, it was only two hours ago that he managed to doze off.

He groans loudly and curses his father.

There really was no need for the man to wake him up at this time. For once, Dean was too tired to complain. He was just going to fall back to sleep and make sure he woke up again before Sam. It was Saturday, so he had to find a way to keep Sam out of the house. He'll deal with that when the time comes. Right now, he craves sleep.

As Dean's eyes close, the image of his happy place slowly clouding his mind, there's a knock on his bedroom door. He rumbles out a curse and shoots up from his bed, throwing the door open aggressively. Sam stood at his door, looking like he was in the same state as his brother.

"Morning," Sam mumbles groggily. Dean says so in much the same way. "I heard a noise from your room. It sounded like a groan, so I just wanted to check you were okay," he informs honestly. Dean could tell Sam was telling the truth, as he's done the same before. Last time, the circumstances were very different. Dean brought a girl home who had weird vocals in the bedroom. Poor Sammy walked right in without knocking. Dean almost smiles at the memory, but stops himself.

"I'm fine. Someone woke me up and I wasn't happy about it." That was the truth.

Sam catches his brother's eyes, trying to read them. "Oh, yeah, who?" Regretfully, Dean told Sam that it was some girl who wouldn't leave him alone, how she just couldn't find anyone else like him out there. That one is a lie, but Dean knew what he was doing. He had to follow the order and make sure that Sam did not find out their father has not come back yet. At any and all costs.

"You're so arrogant, Dean. You aren't all that special," Sam jokes drowsily, rubbing at his right eye. He assumes Dean was the one that put him to bed last night because he recalls falling asleep at his desk studying. He was not going to question it – just it was kind of unusual for Dean to tuck him in to bed. He was seventeen, not a three year old.

Dean manages a smirk. "There is only one Dean Winchester, Sam. Someday you'll come to appreciate that. Now get back to bed. It is far too early to be awake on a Saturday!" Sam shares Dean's need for sleep. So he isn't at the door long before he leaves to go back to his room. He watches the younger Winchester sombrely stalk the hallway, a grin on his lips. "Not all that special, huh? Bitch," he rumbles, shutting his door and returning to bed.

* * *

Sam is reading in the kitchen when Dean stampedes down the stairs. He yawns into his hand, sensing his brother's craving for food. Minutes before the blond began his trek, Sam finished making scrambled egg. He ate his own in record time, so he could get back to studying.

Dean rubs his stomach as he enters the kitchen, as if fighting off the roar emanating from it. His nostrils flair at the smell of eggs. He turns to Sam, frowning. "Did you make food?" Sam doesn't look away from the text as he points to the microwave. "Sweet!" Dean exclaims, ruffling the younger's shoulder length hair while he passes. He opens the microwave and takes out the plate, asking if he needs to heat it up first. Sam tells him it wasn't that long ago it was prepared, so no.

"Bottoms up!" He digs into his food, enjoying the certain way Sam scrambled the eggs that he couldn't even begin to understand how. It was just a different method, but they tasted so good, whatever the brainiac did to them.

"Why are you reading? It's Saturday," he inquires, just now noticing how immersed his brother is in that fat-ass book.

Sam glances over the book at his brother, not enjoying the open-mouthed look he was given, considering the man had food in his pie-hole. "That's truly disgusting, Dean. I have a test on Monday and I want to make sure I'm prepared. I'm spending the whole day studying. I don't have time for breaks," he informs, painfully aware of how nasty his brother's eating habits were. This wasn't the first time he's caught his brother with his mouth full of food, asking him questions. The guy could at least swallow his mouthful before talking. It didn't take two seconds.

Swallowing, Dean drops his forks and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. "You have got to be kiddin' me? You're gonna spend the whole day with your nose in a book? It's a nice day, the suns out. Why don't we just go out and do something, huh? Come on, Sammy, you can't study all the time. You need to give that big brain of yours a break before it burns out on you. Then you could end up like me, and I know that is not an option for you," Dean could see that his words were getting to Sam. He had to get Sam out of the house. This was his opportunity. "What do you say, Sam? Huh? Huh?" Just one more push and he knew Sam would agree to his proposal. "Come on, Sam?" Sam regards his brother for a brief moment, his hands going slack. The book crashes on the table and he rolls his eyes before nodding reluctantly.

Dean gives him an award winning smile. "Yes! Okay, so what do you want to do?" He hopes above all else that he doesn't want to go to a museum. Unless it's a car museum, Dean really had no interest in the whole idea.

Pondering on what other things he would have done today, Sam scratches his head in thought. "Well, there's this new film that's out…" he trailed off, embarrassed. "But, uh, it's a chick flick."

_You have got to be fuckin' kiddin' me? _

"You, uh, you wanna see?..." Dean provokes.

"A chick flick?" Sam provides.

Dean forks his eggs. "No, I got that part," he says, shovelling the food into his mouth. "I meant what's it called, genius?" Hesitantly, Sam told him it was called _High Fidelity. _He tells him it's a film about love and music. He also admits that he doesn't really have an interest in it personally, but Jessica talked about it a lot over the week, so Sam thought it would be nice to take her to see it. "You don't think it'll be creepy if I'm there with you, with just the two of you, playing third-wheel to your little date?" There was bitterness in his tone. He reasons with himself that it's because he didn't particularly want to be sat at the back of the theater while his brother sucked face with his school crush.

"No. Of course not. I'll invite some of my other friends," Sam mutters, closing his book. He has to send out a few texts. While his main purpose was to spend some time with Jess, having his friends there gave him others to talk to if he felt like he was going to chicken out. It also wouldn't make Jess feel cornered.

The older Winchester snorts. "You have friends? That's adorable."

"Shut up!" the younger replies with no heat to his words. His hair is ruffled again. He swats at fleeing hands and huffs. Dean orders him to be ready within twenty minutes, as he doesn't want to be waiting around all day while Sam organizes his tea party. Sam flips him the bird as he walks away, wondering if his brother pre-plans all these taunts. For now he had things to sort out, though.

* * *

"Guys, this is my brother Dean. This is Katy, Harry, George, Ben, Lucy and Jessica," Sam introduces, watching as his brother eyes them all wearily. He wanted to ask Dean to be nice, but he knew that the blond would just see that as patronizing him.

"Hey," Dean replies curly, offering a wave. Even though they were all the same age as Sam, he's never been a fan of kids. Not really. They kind of gave him the skeeves. They just wanted attention all the damn time and Dean has no time for that. Sam was the only exception he was going to make for kids and the like. So what if he's only four years older than them? He has a lifetime worth of experiences under his belt, and that was certainly more than he could say for these kids.

Very awkward greeting aside, they all move to the ticket desk. Dean insists on paying for Sam. The theater was expensive, and he knew that Sam's been saving up for something special. It wasn't going to put a dent in his pocket. It would one Mr. Jones, but Sam didn't need to know that. After all, he used this one to get Sam's last Christmas present. The look on his brother's face when he opened his present was worth the risk of facing serious prison time for credit card fraud. That wasn't the worst thing he's done, so it never really crosses mind that he'll get caught one day. His guy is too good. And so is he.

Everyone got their tickets in a manner of minutes and made their way to the room the movie is in. Dean's the last to enter, having been polite enough to hold the door open for the group. He received very hesitant thank you's for it. At least they had manners. He sighs as he takes his seat in the fourth row. He made sure he's between Sam and Jessica. Not that he wanted to stop Sam from having his fun or anything. He thought it best he just keep an eye on his brother, is all. You know, make certain nothing suspicious is going on around him?

That's what Dean told himself as the movie started. He notices the brunet give him an odd look but blanks him completely. He doesn't want to deal with Sam whining. What he really wanted is to be anywhere but here. This movie was going to suck. He was going to hate it. Dean didn't like chick flicks. It was not and never will be his thing.

In his peripheral vision, he sees a cute raven-haired girl eyeing him from the front row. Usually, he'd offer her a seductive smirk and silent flirting would commence. Later, they'd be banging in the nearest private space. Today, he has to watch out for Sammy. He'd have his fun later when dad was back and he could temporarily relieve himself from his sworn duty.

Katy's voice grated on Dean's nerves. It's so high-pitched and annoying. She's talking loudly to Ben, who asked her what the movie was meant to be about. After two minutes of her constant talking, Dean told her to keep it down, and that people were trying to watch this. She mutters an apology, calling him a boring old man under her breath. Dean gave a warning look to Sam, who offers an apologetic one. He bites his tongue and tries to relax into the chair. This is going to be a long day, he just knew it.

He was right. The movie sucked. He hated it. And he wished he was anywhere but there practically the whole time. The group had mixed feelings about the movie. Katy and Jessica loved the plot line. Harry, Ben and Lucy thought the entire thing was crap. Sam's currently agreeing with everything that Jessica is saying.

_What a moron. He can't even see that she's already into him. He's going to so much effort to be a gentlemen. _

In that moment, Sam walks up to him and asks if he can talk to him for a minute. Dean agrees and allows Sam to lead the way to a quieter area. He briefly witnesses the raven girl leaving the room, tucking the image of her face away in his memory. He would use it later if he didn't end up hooking up with her first.

"Do you think it's working, Dean?" Sam is anxious about the answer.

Dean shakes his head to clear his thoughts. "Um, what?" he murmurs distractedly. Sam repeats himself. "Oh, you mean with Jess, right?" Sam nods. "Honestly, Sammy, I think you're trying too hard. She's into you, so just go for it, yeah?" Dean attempts a supportive grin, but it comes out more like a sneer.

Sam almost flinches at the look, but composes himself. "Okay. How do I go about that?" There is no way he's going in unprepared. He needed to get some fresh pointers from his older brother before he attempts something like this.

Calming himself with a breath, Dean fires off some tips: extra eye-contact, but not to the point where you look like a weirdo; smile at some of the things she says; thumb your lip and see if she watches you do it, etc.

But Sam wanted to know more.

"What should I start wi-"

"For Christ sake, Sam, just go for it already! You don't need all these hints and tips if she already has feelings for you, which she does. So, stop being a little bitch about it and tell her already!" Dean snaps, unable to help himself. Usually, he wouldn't mind prepping Sam with as much knowledge about girls as possible, but today it was just getting to him over and over again.

Feeling perplexed by the outburst, Sam confirms that he would just go for it, like Dean said. He apologizes for badgering him with so many questions and walks away. Dean feels the need to call him back, say he's sorry, but he doesn't. This is easier. This he could deal with.

After all the talk about the film was over, Dean asks everyone what they wanted to do, avoiding looking at his brother the whole time. Not surprisingly, the girls wanted to go clothes shopping, while the guys wanted to hit on chicks.

_They haven't got a chance… _

"Okay. Well, we can kill two birds with one stone if we just go to the mall, which isn't far from here, so let's go," he gestures towards the exit of the movie theater and waits for them all to walk in front. He stares up at the ceiling and sardonically wishes John is having more fun than he is.

Sam chances a glance back at his brother, who is in this moment staring at the ground like it holds the secret to world peace. He swallows a sigh and looks at the beautiful blonde walking next to him, her hands swaying by her sides as she walks. Sam swallows for a different reason this time. Dean told him that Jessica has feelings for him, so all he has to do is admit that he likes her to. That should be easy, right? Not too much pressure on his part.

Ha. Then why did it feel like his lungs were tied in a knot and his mouth's as dry as sand? While he had the answers to these questions, he didn't know how he would stop it. Sam's sure the restrictions wouldn't just disappear once he came clean to Jessica. He would be stupid to think it's that easy.

_Here goes nothing, I guess. _

Giving Dean one last look, Sam taps Jessica on the shoulder. She turns to him with a smile. "What's up, Sam?" she seems genuinely interested to know.

"Um, Jess, I know this is, uh, sudden, but, um…" he pauses, unsure how to finish this. He doesn't get to, as Dean comes between them, saying that he needs to steal Jessica away for a moment. Sam gives him his greatest _are you kidding me _look, which goes unnoticed by the two of them.

The mall was in sight, so that was his only chance to ask Jess out and Dean got in the way. On the bright side, the invisible ropes forcing his lungs to merge has gone away. For now, at least. He shakes his head in disbelief and follows after the pair, wondering what the hell they could be talking about. Dean seems completely relaxed as he talks to Jess, even laughing once at something he said. Jess seems to find it amusing, too, as she glances back at Sam with humor evident in her eyes.

_What the hell are you telling her, Dean?_

* * *

The whole day was a drag for the Winchester's. Well, half of it was for one, and half of it wasn't for the other. Dean seemed very proud of himself after his little conversation with Jessica. He wasn't even sure why he approached her, if he were honest. He just saw Sam struggling to get his words out and felt like he had to swoop in and save the day. That's what he_ truly_ believed.

"What did you tell Jessica?" Sam questions, following Dean into the kitchen. Dean grabs a beer as he says that they just exchanged some stories, and that was all. Sam couldn't help being reluctant to believe him.

"We talked about you for a bit, then I asked her what she wanted to do when she left school. I need to get to know her if you're planning to _make her _a Winchester, Sammy," he relays confidently, nothing preventing him from grabbing a cold one from the fridge.

"You do realize that you drink every day, right?"

Dean twists the cap and takes a swig. "Yeah, so?" he replies sharply, not thrilled with the brunets tone.

"You don't think it's becoming a problem?"

"Do you?" he snaps.

Sam lowers his voice and his shoulders drop. "No. I was just pointing it out. I'll make some dinner, then I need to get back to studying, okay?" Dean nods to his words, his face set in a sour expression. He clearly isn't pleased that Sam was suggesting he had a drinking problem. The average male had a drink when he got home from a stressful day. And most of his days lately tended to be stressful, so he'd have a damn drink if he wanted to!

He silently excuses himself from the kitchen when his phone rings. He lets it go to three rings and it hangs up. With the knowledge that it must be his father, Dean calls the number back and puts his phone to his ear. "Good, I'm glad you remembered this time. You answered the phone this morning on the second ring. That could have been anyone, Dean!" Resisting the urge to throw his phone at the wall, Dean explains that he had just gotten to sleep an hour or two before John called, and he wanted the noise to stop, so he picked up the phone without looking at the number. "On any other day, I'd say that wasn't good enough, but I'll let it slide for now. Listen, I need you to tell your brother that I'm _at the hospital _with my friend, okay?" Dean mutters an affirmation and ends the call.

"Who was that, Dean?" Sam questions from the kitchen, the sound of something sizzling reaching the older brother's ears. He's too busy wondering what the brunet might be cooking for dinner when he comes out, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Dean?" he gestures to his phone.

"Oh, that was dad. Yeah, he said that he'll be staying in the hospital overnight with his friend." Sam asks about the man's wellbeing. "I'm sure he's fine. He'll be out of there in no time, it'll be like he was never hospitalized!" Dean assures, ushering Sam back into the kitchen, informing him jokingly that the king was hungry and needed food served by the princess. Sam rolls his eyes at being compared to a princess. He's been doing that a lot recently – rolling his eyes, not comparing himself to a princess.

Dean's stomach yells at him. He tells is to shut up and that Sam will be finished cooking soon. As much as he tries to convince his stomach to wait, the smell wafting in from the kitchen was beating his patience into submission. Sam's food is the best he's ever had. And when Sam cooks just for him, well it tastes that little bit better.

"Hurry up, Sam! I'm starving in here!" Dean roars.

"Patience, _your majesty, _it's not a princesses job to cook food, it's the chefs, so it's going to take some time," Sam drones at the stove, finding his brother's childish behavior gleefully amusing.

"Watch your tone, young lady," he teases, finding refuge on the couch, as he waits to be fed.

* * *

_Dean's standing in a room he's not familiar with. It isn't any of the motel rooms he's come across. It's took dark and dank. There's pieces of crumbled ceiling falling at his feet. The wooden pillars are creaking, the sound of someone crying almost cancelling them out. _

_"Hello?" he voices, moving across the room to the bathroom door, which seems to be occupied by someone crying. He opens the door gently, surveying the space. His eyes widen and his heart beats wildly in his chest. "No…" he says above a whisper, falling to his knees. "No, no, no, no!" he repeats over and over, hoping that his denial will wash away the spectacle before him and replace it with a pleasing one._

_"De-Dean?" Sam pants, coughing up a small amount of blood. He attempts turning to his other side, away from his brother. He doesn't want Dean to see him like this. He was hoping someone else would find him. _

_"Sammy, no, this… This can't be you! It just can't!" His voice cracks, and his body feels weak. The sight of Sam all cut up and bloody bringing up whatever he ate that day. He makes sure he vomits in the other direction, getting none of it on Sam or himself. He could at least do that much. _

_Dean forces his knees to bring him forward. Gently, he hefts Sam into his arms, brushing his fringe out of the way of his forehead. "No. Not him. Anyone but him!" he curses whoever did this to hell, vowing right here and there to find them and kill them, as his dying wish. He would not perish until their blood was spilled at the hands of him. "Sammy, listen to me, you have to hold on, you understand? I'm gonna get you some help, okay? But you've got to stay with me?" Dean swipes blood off the corner of Sam's mouth, his expression nothing but pure anguish. _

_A tear leaves his eye as he cradles Sam close, kissing the top of his head, whispering that everything is going to be okay. He's here now and he won't let anything else hurt him. After a while, getting no response from the body in his arms, he lowers Sam's head and stares at what he fears the most. _

_Sam's body is rigid in his arms, his mouth slack and his head a lifeless weight. Carefully, he sets Sam down on the ground, his eyes closed. He sits there for a moment, silent tears falling from his eyes in rivulets. He doesn't even bother to wipe them. Instead, he smashes the nearest thing to him with his fist. The mirror shatters into listless pieces and falls to the ground. _

_Dean falls with it, his knees pierced by a loan piece. He ignores it, flushing out the pain instantly. "Sam!" he screams into the bathroom, loud and longing. "Sammy!" Once more, but nothing comes. "No, Sam! Not you. Sam, don't leave me, please!" he begs, tucking Sam into his arms once more, ghostly tears leaking from his eyes and trailing down his cheeks, eventually falling on his brother's pale, unmoving face. _

Dean bucks awake in a cold sweat, rising to a sitting position. He looks around his room, noticing that he's at home and what just happened in his dream wasn't real. But it was still fucking terrifying. He jumps out of bed, his heart racing. He wrenches his door open and stomps down the hallway to Sam's room.

He enters the room with quiet determination and sits beside Sam's bed. He takes the hand closest to him and rubs his thumb over Sam's knuckles soothingly, more so to himself than the younger Winchester. It calms his nerves slightly, so he continues to do it.

"Sam, I know you aren't awake right now and this may seem weird to you in the morning if I fall asleep, but… I just want you to know that you mean more than anything to me in this world, and if I lost you, I honestly don't know if I'd be able to go on living. Sammy, I just don't think I could handle it!" Confession aside, Dean softly kisses the base of Sam's hand. "I'll never let you go, Sam. I'll never let anything hurt you. I swear."

Several minutes later, Dean is lulled to sleep by the sound of Sam's even breathing. There's a smile on the brunets face, one that he couldn't even begin to explain.

* * *

_Notes: _

_Character development for Dean and Sam. :) And a little fluff/angsty moment for Dean. :( Thanks for the favourites and the reviews. :) _


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